


Mistress of a disrespectful dog!

by Ownsariver



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ownsariver/pseuds/Ownsariver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor can`t behave and his wife is furious.</p><p>Warnings: This is a smutty fic for wicked adults. It is hard-core porn and includes pegging, spanking and bondage. It was originally written as a private gift for Moony with a softer ending at first, then upgraded to the hard-core pegging version later. Which I was blackmailed and polled into posting at sansaxsandor a long while back. So, ladies - don`t read it if you can`t handle it ;-)</p><p>Disclaimer: A Song of Ice and Fire and its characters don't belong to me. I just peg them...<br/>Thanks to: My brilliant beta  The Moonmoth - for your gorgeous kinks and brilliant mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistress of a disrespectful dog!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_moonmoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_moonmoth/gifts).



Sandor couldn`t for the life of him understand how women could use the whole fucking afternoon to tie on some silks and twine up their hair. Sitting in a chair resting his arms on his thighs, feeling more bored than any man should bloody have to be without sitting out a siege for the second year, he wondered if Jaime had been able to escape his father-in-law long enough for Sandor to drink him to the floor. 

Probably not. Lord Tarth had been furious, distressed, frustrated to the point of tears and finally had obviously decided to land on thrilled for his stubborn daughter’s choice of husband. Brienne had laid her ears back and refused point blank to speak to her father until he realized that she would never have gotten a better match, and the blasted soft-hearted fool had broken after three days, too buggering happy about his daughter’s surprising survival of the war. 

Well, this would kill Sandor right away if he didn`t find something better to do, and _Sansa_ would fucking kill him if he went sparring in these… were these even clothes? Clothes were something you were supposed to _live_ in, not bloody reduce a man to being leant against a wall as garnish, for fuck’s sake! _Yes, I tend to lighten up my surroundings wherever I go, don`t I?_ He was pretty good at decorating lowlifes’ faces with bruises, though… When he found himself laughing out loud at his own lame joke, Sandor decided enough was enough and went in search of Jaime. 

And found him not two hallways down in the Red Keep, closing a door behind him and looking like he`d just escaped walking through seven fiery hells in bare feet. 

“What are you looking all ruffled for, Lion? Brienne fucked you to three broken ribs?” Sandor asked curiously, scratching his neck. Jaime snorted a laugh, before showing him all his even teeth in something supposed to be a smile. 

“Ah, if only! Then I would have ended up somewhat contented, at least. No, my _father-in-law_ is trying to kill me with family history. I`m nearly at the point of joining the Queensguard, if I didn`t know Brienne would twist my head off immediately… Wouldn`t that be splendid? I`m sure Ser Barristan would`ve been thrilled to be my brother again!” Sandor barked a horse laugh at the thought of the Kingslayer sitting grinning cockily in Aerys’ s granddaughter’s Queenguard, but then Jaime started to look him up and down critically. 

“Gods Clegane, what _has_ Sansa done to you? I`d swear she`s stuffed you into feast clothes! You are fucking losing it! You`re supposed to inspire nightmares in the Queen’s eunuchs, and… is that embroidery? Oh, Maiden have mercy, she`s put a collar and leash on you!” Sandor just rubbed his scarred, feared face and sighed in annoyed defeat. 

“I need wine. The sourest Dornish red the Gods ever pissed out. Lots of it. And if you don`t shut the fuck up I`ll beat you into all seven hells for good measure, giving _you_ nightmares about me for a lifetime to come.” 

Trouble was, they`d only managed to wash down… some… flagons of heavenly escape before Sansa came down on him like an avalanche. She slammed the door to Jaime’s rooms open, armed with her two impressively silly maids and her sheer force of will, Tully-blue eyes blazing in fury and looking so fucking amazing that a man was utterly defenceless no matter how good an argument he had. 

“If you have managed to get yourself drunk right before the Queen’s Feast where we are supposed to sit at the high table, you`ll regret this for months, do you hear me?” she snarled at him, leaning over the table, her face an inch from his own. Sandor tried to clear his head, suddenly realizing he actually _was_ pretty drunk and unable to remember why he`d thought that was such a great idea anymore. 

“Seven hells Sansa, I couldn`t wait until I bloody fell off the chair grey-haired and wrinkled, now could I? I`m a _man_ not a blasted ornamental shrub, for fuck’s sake!” he rasped irritably, wincing inwardly at how defensive he sounded. 

Sansa looked incredulously at him and Jaime broke down laughing, leaning drunkenly over the table. “Oh fuck me sideways, Clegane – you`re in shit up to your neck now! Heel your mistress, dog!” he laughed, somehow managing to smile cheekily at Sansa through it all, receiving an icy stare as Sandor watched his usually smiling, courteous wife turn frostily into the Lady of Winterfell before his eyes. 

“Shut up, Lion, you blasted idiot! It… I… it wasn`t my fault… and… He said you`d put a bleeding collar and leash on me! What the hell was I supposed to do?” Suddenly feeling wronged beyond reason, a grown man not even able to take a buggering drink with his old friend in fear of his _wife?_ Sandor felt his anger rise hot and strong, pushing his chair away from the table as he stood, knowing fully how impressive his height was and trying hard not to reel sideways as the world hit him. 

Sansa advanced on him, silver-grey skirts swishing as she walked, her beautiful eyes fearless, fury painted on her features. He felt the burnt side of his mouth twitch into a snarl as he drunkenly tried to stare her down, but she just smiled coldly at him as she slowly started sauntering in a circle around him, studying him, taking in his state. 

“Jeiney, Linsy, please leave us. You`ll have the night off. Enjoy yourselves,” she said to her maids without taking her eyes off him, for some reason making him slightly aroused as the annoying creatures curtsied their _m`ladies_ and went for the door, making it really hard to concentrate on being angry. _No maids in the room next door tonight… ah fuck, need to keep focus here!_

Jaime, the bloody traitor, looked like this was the best thing that had ever happened to him and nonchalantly toasted Sandor from his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him as he sat back to enjoy the show. His grin turned sickly, though, when Sansa turned her icy stare on him instead, making Sandor chuckle until his Little Bird leaned over the one-handed git and drew his dagger, unbuckling his belt before the man could react. Jaime looked stricken, mouth open and wine forgotten as he desperately sought Sandor’s face, looking apologetic for letting Sandor’s wife touch him, not a snigger in the air. Sandor was about to erupt when she turned to him again, smiling a smile that would have been oh so sweet if it wasn`t for the frost in her eyes, the dagger and Jaime’s belt still in her hand. 

“Right, _husband_ , since you can`t behave any better than the dogs on your shield, I`ll take Jaime’s advice and get you a collar and leash and see how you like it. You _knew_ how important this was to me, you _know_ how many important connections this could bring to the North, but you still _had_ to get too drunk to pretend otherwise. So, you`ll do exactly as I tell you to from now on, keeping your drunken mouth shut for a start, and you will still need to make it up to me after the feast.” 

Sandor grinned. _Make it up to her, indeed._ He lowered his head, all anger suddenly gone, deciding to kiss her no matter if she wanted him to keep his mouth shut, but she just smiled and let him. Her lips moving over his, her tongue suddenly caressing his own before Jaime and everything! Fanning his simmering lust into real arousal as he felt her hand in his hair, the other hand keeping the dagger away from him as her arm dragged him down towards her, his need for her flowing through him in hot sparks. Wait. Hands and… what? He broke the kiss and pulled his head sharply away from her. And felt Jaime’s belt tightening around his neck. 

Sansa smiled broadly at him, and tugged playfully on the end of the belt, surprisingly enough releasing a wave of heavy arousal in Sandor. He felt drunk, hard as hell and confused as to why he was responding like this, standing paralyzed as she put the point of Jaime’s dagger to the leather of the man’s belt, right under Sandor’s chin, twisting it around a couple of times. Sansa met his eyes and buckled his collar on using the new hole, and kissed him again standing close, so her body concealed her hand stroking over the hardness in his breeches, letting her fingers glide over him and gently palm his cockhead through the fabric. He heard how his breath caught in her mouth, and felt embarrassed like all seven hells at once to be humiliated like this in front of the Lion. But, unfortunately, the pressure in his breeches only increased at the thought of someone watching this. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Sansa broke the kiss, eyes glittering, breath a bit too fast, and adjusted his cock like it was a fucking scroll he had in his pocket, tugging on his tunic to cover him up, pretending she was checking over his clothes. Sandor met Jaime’s eyes over her head trying for all his worth to radiate all kinds of vicious threats instead of looking like a fucking sheep. 

“Well,” she said, “as you haven`t managed to ruin your clothes at least, you`ll not have to wear the leash for now,” and then smilingly, she cut off the loose end of Jaime’s belt right under his jaw. The dagger in her hand so close made him swallow a groan, for some absurd reason finding her so fucking arousing bitching him around like this. Cutting off the leash left a collar, which she turned so the buckle was hidden under his hair, fussing with his tunic until she was satisfied with the result. 

“You bloody well like this, don`t you?” Sandor grumbled, even though he wanted nothing more than to drag her back to their rooms and fuck her long and hard.

She grinned at him. “Yes. And I`m still furious with you, so don`t think this is all the punishment you`ll get.” Why in the Maiden’s teats would that have him panting? And with that she turned, took his arm and threw the rest of Jaime’s belt at the drunk and grinning Lion, making him jump as she nailed his dagger into the table top and swept Sandor out of the room without further ado. Fucking amazing wife… 

The feast turned out to be both exciting and pure agony. He was pointedly served water by the bold Little Bird he`d married, and even though he hadn`t been anywhere near reeling drunk or slurring his words… much… he still felt himself sobering up quite markedly during the hours spent seated. Sansa herself did everything she could to keep him in a chronic daze of lust instead, after they had been through the formalities at least. 

Jaime and Brienne had showed up right before the seating, the Lion looking drunk and happy, the lucky shit, _his_ wife only laughing at the state of him. But of course, they were seated far away from anyone important and were not expected to have an opinion about anything at all. Sandor had to ruefully admit that Sansa might have had a point in being angry with him, his fingers touching the collar around his neck before snatching them away again, watching her speaking courteously with one of the Queen’s advisors. 

He looked sideways at his beautiful wife, wondering what she had on her mind for later. Sansa smiled knowingly at him around her fork and let it slide out from between her lips again, slowly, eyes glittering at him. She continued eating her food in small pieces, ladylike as hell, but the whole time using a bit too pleasurable an expression, her mouth moving so bloody alluringly and slow over every fucking thing she put in her mouth. Knowing all too well that the only blasted thing he could see was her mouth moving up and down his shaft, her tongue licking _him_ instead of the dessertspoon.

It ended with him sitting there feeling so aroused that he had trouble hiding it, wanting his wife so badly that the freed naked pleasure slaves dancing some sort of tribute to the Dragon Queen – or plain out fucking on the floor, as Sandor saw it – could not compare to the way Sansa prettily dusted off a crumb from her bodice with her napkin. Deliberately stroking her nipple her thumb, her legs spreading slightly under the table as she turned with her lush lips parted, Tully-blue eyes filled with desire as she leaned towards him so he would hear her over the music. 

“I want you on your knees tonight. I might even call you _dog,_ ” she breathed sounding just as aroused as he felt. And just the way she said dog had him on the brink of what could go unnoticed in a hall full of people. 

“I`ll be your dog, but I might have an attitude problem,” he rasped breathlessly back at her, and received a soft moan, making him want to rip off her clothes and fuck her right there on the table. Hard. 

“Would my vicious hound try to dominate me?” she whispered, pressing her breast against his arm so he felt her hard nipple through the fabric. 

“Hell yes,” he all but groaned back at her. 

“Can`t have that, can we?” she murmured and almost lazily bit his ear, just hard enough to hurt before kissing his earlobe softly, licking him right underneath it, the combination making his cock throb in his breeches, needing her hands and her mouth and her sweet, warm cunt. So _fucking_ badly! 

When they finally were allowed to withdraw, Sansa chose the shortest route to their chambers, walking purposefully and glancing at him with eyes filled with need, until she stopped and pushed him backwards into the stonewall. She grabbed his new collar and pulled him down to kiss him hard, but slapped his hands away when he tried to touch her. 

“No, you`ll do what I tell you. I`ve not asked you to touch me, so you won`t. But I`ve already told you what the rules are, so… I think I`ll need to tie you up for this. You`re too large a dog for me to wrestle without a leash anyway,” she murmured into his mouth and Sandor found himself panting back at the thought of her actually trying to wrestle him, if he was tied up she might even get in a punch at him… 

“Would you fight me? If I was tied up? I`m not going to hurt you in any way, I just… you`re fucking driving me crazy here being so fierce. I`d like to see what you`ve got,” he whispered breathlessly. Sansa regarded him silently. 

“I do, don`t I? You`re really panting at the thought of being hit by me! What if I hurt _you?_ ” she whispered back, kissing his neck. Sandor grinned through his daze. 

“Seven hells, Sansa! I have a reputation, haven`t I? I don`t get beaten up by Little Birds, you haven`t got a chance at _hurting_ me with those tiny fists of yours!” He chuckled at the mere thought. And was surprised by Sansa biting his neck hard, sending jagged sparks of pain swirling into a hard slam of lust in his stomach and groin – before grabbing his collar and marching him down the hallway for anyone to see. He would need to strike half the soldiers in the Red Keep to the ground if this got out, but somehow that just added to the need burning in his veins, the risk at being seen like this adding a bizarre sort of excitement. And if his beautiful wife wanted to leash him, she should be allowed to for fuck’s sake. He would always welcome _any_ fight with a bastard whose mouth was too big for his own good, so she was doing him a favour, really. Or so he told himself as his cock ached to be touched in his breeches, his arousal surging sky-high at the thought that he would obviously need to ask permission first. 

Once inside their chambers, Sansa wasted no time on courtesy or anything else, just started undressing him. Sandor tried to help but she twined his belt around her hand and held it up threateningly, so he grinned down at his lady wife and deliberately touched her teat. She looked outraged at him and smacked him over his upper arm. He laughed out loud and pinched her nipple gently – and received a much harder smack with the belt over his neck, which actually made him moan in a weird kind of pleasure. They looked shocked at each other for a moment, before Sansa grinned widely and set to work freeing him of his clothes, Sandor letting her do it while he kissed her neck and stroked her breasts, hoping she would punish him for it even if she liked it, and finding himself wanting her to. 

So, disappointment simmered hotly in him when she only turned away from him after relieving him of all but his breeches, an annoyingly knowing smile playing over her lips. Fuck him if he would let her play him so easily… knowing him so well that she could reckon out strings in him he hadn`t known he had himself. He grabbed her arse just to see what it brought him and she spun back at him and smacked him hard over his hip. Hitting every fucking chord and making him pant in desire as she grabbed his collar again with one hand. He watched in aroused fascination as Sansa put the belt between her teeth as she met his eyes and took hold of his balls through his breeches. A bit too hard – but feeling so bloody good. 

The mix of the warm pain from where she`d hit him, her firm grip around his balls and the slight humiliation at being treated like this made Sandor’s arousal explode into a raging need. He heard how he groaned dazedly as she walked him backwards like that, moving her fingers slightly, stirring him up even more until he felt something brush the back of his legs before she pushed him down in a chair. Where Sansa kissed him deeply, biting his lip so much harder than she usually did, making him buck his hips up into her hand in pure lust for more of this new game. 

“Be a good dog and stay until I return with your leash,” she murmured into his ear, “if you behave yourself you`ll get rewarded with pleasure, if you don`t I`ll punish you with pain. Whatever you prefer,” she continued, her breath hot and strong over the warm prickling feeling of his skin where she`d hit him over his neck. 

He heard himself moan and unlaced his breeches as he watched her fucking wonderful arse move as she went into their bedroom, and started to stroke himself _without_ asking for a bloody permission. Feeling his need build rapidly as he tightened his grip around his cock, continuing to move his hand hard up and down his shaft even though he knew he shouldn`t, hoping she would end up mad as hell. Letting his head lean against the chair, he panted at the thrilling feeling of being bloody dominated by his pretty little wife, fucking into his hand while thinking of the hot spark of lust in Sansa’s eyes as she hit him with that belt, the way she`d fucking had him by the balls, his eyes closing in pleasure. 

And received a stinging slap across his good cheek a moment later, making his pleasure flare when he opened his eyes and grinned at his wife, deliberately continuing to move his hand and felt himself near on the bleeding thrill of it. 

“Is that all you`ve got?” he asked raggedly. Sansa’s eyes narrowed, knowing him too well, knowing that he was stroking himself to release right before her eyes. 

“Up,” she hissed. 

“No,” he groaned. 

She leant over him, auburn hair sparkling in the light from the candles as she picked up the belt again, baring her teeth in something remarkable similar to a smile. “Do _not_ make me repeat myself.” He just grinned at her again and groaned in pleasure in response to the glint in her eyes. 

Sandor hadn`t known Sansa had any of her wolf-bitch sister’s violence in her before she just erupted in intoxicating fury in response to his insolence. He was taken completely by surprise when she just rained blows over his arms and neck, quick as hell and impressively hard actually, making him instinctively lash out and twine his hand around the belt - tugging her towards him, making her fly into his lap. She was breathing heavily, but so was he, her mouth so close to his own. He couldn`t help himself but dropped the belt and pressed her towards him, bucking his rock hard cock up against her. Ending up moaning raggedly into her mouth as she half-kissed him and ground herself towards him in return for a heartbeat, apparently finding this just as exciting as he was, his upper body a mass of warm shadows after her temper. 

She whimpered into his neck when he grabbed her hips and pressed her down against his throbbing cock, rubbing himself against her, kissing her deeply and ignoring her slight sounds of protest, before letting her go as she raised herself up. Straddling his hips she lifted her skirts out of the way so his cock lay against her nub through her smallclothes, and started to move her hips in slow circles so her cunt rubbed against him. Raw lust slammed through him, and bloody exploded into raging want as she looked at him hungrily and determinedly fished a silken tie out of her bodice, sliding up from between her teats, letting Sandor watch in blazing arousal and wonderment as she tied it around first one wrist. 

“And now the other one… that`s a good dog…” she murmured as she tied him up with silken ties so easy to get out of had he wanted to, tying the ends to his collar so he had his hands locked half a foot too high to reach his cock. He felt so hard it was beginning to hurt, but as in battle pain was just something completing the high of the fight, the rush to his head and the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Sansa produced a second silken band, looking deep into his eyes with so much excited lust in her own as she took hold of the leather, fisting it up under his chin and tied the band to the buckle, creating a leash. 

Sandor’s body responded instantly with heavy stabs of white-hot lust, making him breathe even more raggedly as Sansa smiled at him - nearly unpleasantly - before lowering her head, kissing his neck down to his collarbone, the combination of pain and pleasure sweet as hell. Shifting, she spread his legs as she slid down between them, continuing her open-mouthed kisses down his chest and stomach on either side of the band holding his bound wrists, creating a heavy longing and a searing need for her warm mouth on his cock. He heard himself moan loudly as she tightened his leash hard as she finally let her tongue slide up the length of him, his moan broken by heavy panting when she took him in her mouth. Lush lips engulfing him, taking him deep into her warm mouth before gliding tightly up and licking his cockhead with the flat of her tongue, ending with licking around the ridge of the head of him. 

She smiled lovingly up at him as her lips left his aching manhood, raising herself gracefully. “That was for being a good dog for letting me tie you up without snarling, my love. You still need to be punished for pleasing yourself, though. You`re only allowed to peak when I say so – and I know you were close,” she said reproachfully, but her voice was husky and her eyes filled with mirthful desire, playing with the leash in her hand and bloody well making him writhe in need as she seated herself daintily on his thigh. 

“You really are a dog, aren’t you?” she continued, suddenly smiling mischievously, her obvious arousal radiating from her. “You like getting leashed by me!” 

“Fuck me, I do,” he panted in return as he felt her tighten his leash, bucking his hips up against her, straining his bound wrists unable to touch himself, the denial sending a new shower of need through him. She raised one eyebrow, expression playfully stern. 

“Mistress,” she added. “You`ll call me mistress as long as you`re my dog.” He grinned dazedly at her, exhaling raggedly as she tugged his head forward by his leash, baring her pretty teeth when she sneered smilingly into his face. “Don`t you obey your mistress, _dog?_ I asked you a question!” He fucking groaned at that but kept his mouth shut, curious to see where it would lead. 

She was off him in a flash, and as the belt smacked down over his chest and upper arms, he suddenly understood what _some_ of this at least, was all about for him, how he could be so flaming aroused by this. His all too beautiful, young and slim wife was fucking making him moan with a twisted kind of bloodlust, the fact that it was her creating the feeling of having been in a good fight made so much tension spiral into hot, strong longing for release, for more, for her, making him love the game they were playing and that she had so much passion and guts! 

Sandor met her eyes and widened his grin. “I`m not impressed Little Bird,” he rasped breathlessly at her, even though he sort of was; feeling the warmth of several bruises crisscrossing his chest and arms. Seeing a glint of real fury in her eyes, and getting off on it like hell, he also saw her bloody _amazing_ lust as she glanced down at his hard cock standing out of his unlaced breeches. He groaned out loud at seeing _her_ arousal soar at the knowledge that he could take as much beating as she could give, be turned on by it, that he wanted her to release the savage side of her usually controlled self, knowing they were the only ones that saw each other like this. 

She nonchalantly smacked him hard across his face with the belt, and then again even harder, making him look enthralled at her, burning with need as she relieved herself of her skirt, bringing down her smallclothes as well, standing in just her elegant high-heels, stockings and bodice as she let her hair down, cascading down her back and matching the fair hair on her cunt perfectly. Sandor moaned in pure, fucking desire, his cock twitching in anticipation, in need of being touched, licked, sucked. More. Wanting to touch her and feeling lust racing hard up his spine at the thought that he couldn`t because he was tied up. She unlaced her bodice slowly, alluringly, and stroked her teats over his heated face, nipples tight and pink, making the pressure in his cock reach a new, agonizing high. 

“You`re allowed to use your mouth on me,” Sansa whispered at him, and he felt his breath hitch as he obediently took her nipple in his mouth, his tongue circling around it, sucking gently, just as he knew she liked it. She moaned loud and clear, and stroked her fingers over his too hard manhood, teasing him with her fingertips, palming his cockhead and let him go. Raising herself again she licked his moisture off her fingers as she twined his leash around her other hand and tugged hard on it, making Sandor buck his hips on the brink of fucking pleading, being so aroused that he felt like he was flaming going to die from it by now. 

Sansa turned and let his leash tighten over her shoulder, the belt hanging down from her other hand and with her firm, young arse towards him. Deliberately sweeping her hair over one shoulder as she bent forwards, letting him see her sweet cunt from behind, spreading her legs for him and letting him hold her up by his neck. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face between her legs, taste her, lick her, but he obviously needed to be a good dog holding his fucking mistress up, making him groan loudly at his body's response to the denied pleasure. 

“Spread your legs,” his spirited wife commanded and he did as he was bid. Finding himself moaning out loud in fucking anticipation as she walked backwards in between his thighs and caressed the head of him with her cunt. Fuck, she was more or less _dripping_ for him. His dazed groan mixing into her gasp as she let herself slide down on his cock in one smooth motion, whipping her hair into his face and moving her hips in a slow circle. Sandor didn`t know what to do with himself; her sweet, warm tightness feeling like all seven heavens, making him moan raggedly as he thrust deep into her, lifting his hips and them both from the chair. The pleasure built like a gigantic wave, and he heard how he made a guttural sound deep in his throat, needing to fuck her properly, needing her to fuck him harder, rougher, _deeper_ as his whole being was turned into a swirling chaos of need for _more._

He nearly shouted in frustration when he realized he`d gasped the last word aloud and she resolutely got off him. But the disappointment turned to excitement as she breathed ‘heel’ and tugged him towards their bed with the collar around his neck. 

He heeled quickly enough – which man wouldn`t when expecting a reward like that? But bugger him, he wanted more of her savage side, so he tripped her right onto the bed, moving on top of her, amazed that she even managed to _fall_ elegantly, and pressed her down in the mattress from behind, his bound wrists pushing gently on her neck to make her yield. She bloody well tilted her hips up for him, though, turning her head so he could kiss her neck as he shifted to rest his weigh on his elbows on the bed, his tall wife still being so much smaller than him that she had room enough to move under his raised upper body. 

Grinning at the thought of how she probably lay planning her revenge for his disrespect, he felt his cock against her opening and thrust hard into her, moaning loudly at finally finding some relief. Her warm cunt took all of him, pressing hard around his cock as he exhaled raggedly at the pleasure slamming through him. Fuck she was tight this way, but he was so utterly on his knees with arousal by now that he needed even more, needed to press her to him as he buried himself deeply in her, making him grind his hips desperately down against her arse, continuing to thrust hard into her. Sansa lay underneath him, her hands stroking tightly over the muscles in his arms, moaning together with him as the noise of his groin slapping against her arse with every rhythmic movement rapidly took him into bliss. 

She moaned ‘stop’ but at the same time made it impossible for him to obey with moving her hips up to meet his motion and groaning for every thrust. He felt his release building, his whole body vibrating in need, and raised his upper body completely again. Resting his bound wrists on the small of her back as he dragged her up on all fours he felt how she took his weight, saw his cock slide wetly in and out of her hot cunt, working like hell for him. Seven save him, he was there, his peak coming high as the heavens – and Sansa reacted quick as a fucking snake, twisted herself out from under him and turned, giving him a full-armed slap across his face and throwing her whole body into the movement. 

He fell on his back, unable to catch himself, ears ringing with the slap and his body screaming for the denied release. She was on top of him in a heartbeat, and yanked his head forwards by his hair. He twisted his body and threw her off, but she held him by his hair and kneed him hard in his side in return, making him laugh in a dazed sort of black and white pleasure and pain. Fuck she had an attitude! 

“Stay,” she growled at him and tied his leash tightly to the bedpost after freeing him of his boots and breechers - and he found himself grinning at her furious expression as she picked up the belt again. “Sit up on your knees,” his gorgeous wife continued, breathless and flushed no matter her temper, her thighs wet with their common lust and pleasure. He did, and she moaned as she drank him in with her eyes, crisscrossed by hit marks, tied up and leashed, on his knees. Just as she wanted him apparently. Sandor’s cock twitched in need. 

“I need your hands on me, can`t reach myself,” he groaned as he strained his bound wrists down towards his wet and aching member, sounding annoyingly desperate. She smiled back with so much arousal in her eyes, and hung the belt off his shoulders, red and welted, as she untied one of his wrists. He was about to protest, wanting _her_ to touch him, and getting off a bit too much on being bound, but ended up groaning deeply when she just bent his arms and back-bound him instead. Sitting behind him she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him to her for a moment, her breasts firm and soft against his back, her nipples hard. Sandor was on the brink of what he could bloody take without stimulus. 

“Please touch me…” he muttered breathlessly, feeling shame flood him at pleading like a fucking archer without money for a cheap fuck, but feeling the painful pressure in his cock expand nonetheless. Sansa actually shivered behind him and slid her hands down his body. 

“What did you say?” she murmured back, and let the silken end of his leash caress his wanting cock, sliding it back and forth over the head of him. He moaned loud and clear, and she ground her hips against his back, her wetness nearly driving him insane when he couldn`t just turn and fuck her. 

“Please… I need you so bloody much,” Sandor heard himself groan. She kissed his neck above the collar and took the leash between her hands, sliding it down the underside of the length of him, sending pleasure slamming through his body as she placed it under his balls, tightening it and tying it off over his cock. They both seemed to have reached a stage where their hips moved on their own accord, Sandor’s deep groans mixing with Sansa’s whimpers of need as she folded her hand around him, letting him fuck into it. Finally giving him some blessed friction again. 

“Oh fucking hell, Sansa,” he gasped in relief and intense pleasure, the tight band around his balls and cock increasing his overwhelming arousal by an unbelievable amount. 

“Wrong answer,” she moaned, moving up against his back, biting his neck gently. “I`m mistress to you, dog.” And bit down harder, licking him as she did so. He wasn`t even sure he would`ve been able to answer her if he`d wanted to, having been flung into the sort of pleasuring where he could float for hours, the pain just flaring through it, increasing it as her hand tightened around his cock. Her teeth building it higher as she bit down hard as hell, making him moan loudly in dazed pleasure-pain. 

Her hands left his cock and she retrieved the belt from his shoulder, making his anticipation grow as the frustrating loss of her hand pleasing him built into a raging want for her discipline, wanting more of the strange pleasure that sent him so bloody sky-high, and kept his mouth firmly shut to provoke her. 

“You insolent mongrel,” Sansa said behind him, her tone pleasant and dangerous all at once. “Really, do you love it so much, being shamed by me?” Her voice changed to fucking sounding furious for real at his refusal to show her respect. Well, bugger him, but calling his wife ‘mistress’ out loud _would_ be bloody shameful enough for a lifetime, actually… If the Lion ever was to find out… 

“If you can`t hit harder than what you`ve done up until now, you won`t be able to shame me anywhere, Little Bird,” he ended up answering raggedly, but the needy edge in his voice must really have hit the target, because he received a stinging slap over his back and the back of his arms in return before he felt the mattress move as she repositioned herself. 

And landed blows over his arse and the backs of his thighs like a fucking cook finding an urchin eating her pie at the windowsill. It hurt like fuck, but felt fucking unbelievably thrilling, and as she continued he actually started wondering how in the seven hells he`d be able to sit down at all tomorrow, and how flaming embarrassing that would be. And that just had him groaning all over again for some reason, his cock twitching for every spank, the leash around his balls tightening as he bloody well neared his release all over again. Ending up standing at the edge, gasping helplessly for more, unable to peak without her hands, her cunt… _her bloody permission._

The blows stopped, leaving his arse and thighs glowing with a prickling pain that made him groan in burning, thudding need and loss at the same time, so aroused that frustration was beginning to take over, needing his release so bad it nearly made him angry. 

“Really, dog? Are you so hard that you`re beginning to shake?” Sansa murmured softly into his ear, laying herself gently over his back, and slid backwards whilst grinding her hips against him, leaving a wet trail down towards his arse. He was, Sandor realised. Shivering in anticipation and his pulsing heavy, painfully frustrating, delicious _want._

“Yes,” he gasped, too far gone for more coherent speech, too fucked up for denial. 

Sansa smiled against his back and kissed his skin, bucking her hips up against his burning arse as she slid her hands forwards again, her fingers sliding feather light over his twitching and dripping cock, making him shake for true as he moaned out loud. The combined sensation of her rubbing herself against him like that and caressing him so gently after giving him such a savage side of herself just felt bloody amazing. 

She folded one hand lightly around him and he instinctively bucked his hips into it, the friction so frustratingly light, but felt so intensely stirring, feeling how her other hand slid backwards and stroked over his aching arse. She pushed him forwards so he lay headfirst into the mattress, him joining in on whatever she wanted as long as she just _kept on_ caressing him. His shoulders instantly started to ache, her hand on him felt so good and he soared high as hell on all the sensations mixing together. And then she bloody well stroked a finger down between the cheeks of his arse. He stiffened, and she slapped him hard in response, making him groan in painful pleasure. 

“Relax,” she murmured, tightening her hold around his aching cock, starting to stroke him with expertise, his ragged moan sounding loud in his own ears as he moved his hips to fuck harder into her hand, the movement pressing her finger against his arse, surprisingly enough feeling stirring as hell. She increased the pressure for every thrust until he suddenly felt her finger slip inside him, her cunt against her own hand bucking it into him, releasing such an intense double pleasure that he moaned helplessly at the strange sensation, hearing how she mirrored him. Dazedly starting to fuck both into her hand in front, but also pressing himself towards her hand behind, his cock throbbing in her grip and his balls tightening as an enormous wave of pleasure started building to be let loose. 

“No, my lovely dog, not yet,” Sansa whispered breathlessly, probably feeling the tension in him, letting go of his cock and tightening the leash around his balls. “I think you will want something better than that.” 

Wondering what in the seven hells could push him even higher, he turned his face on the mattress and breathed raggedly as he watched Sansa deftly unfasten the candleholder of one of their brass candelabras. Taking off the top as the servants used to do when cleaning them, leaving an ornamental rod four inches long, ending in the foot, its flat end clad with velvet. 

“And what the Stranger’s name do you think you`re going to do with that, Little Bird,” Sandor growled suspiciously through his lust-haze. 

“Fuck you with it,” his wife exclaimed, smiling sweetly at him. 

He started to laugh hoarsely. “No, you bloody well aren`t.” 

Her expression darkened, and a heartbeat later he`d received a stinging slap with the belt over the small of his back, his mistress adding two more for good measure. 

“Shut the fuck up, _dog,_ ” she snapped. “You`re mine to do with as I please, and you will _beg_ me for more before I`m done.” 

And to Sandor’s immense surprise he fucking moaned down into their sheets at that, at hearing her talk rough, at the intense embarrassment slamming through him just at the _thought_ of somebody finding out about this. All of it turning into a raging storm of arousal at the thought of actually _doing_ it, bloody wanting _more_ of it. Trusting his wife to keep it secret, knowing she would never tell, that this was something that was only theirs to know… 

She positioned herself in front of him, making him turn his head again to see her properly, murmuring ‘stay’ as she spread her legs wide right before his face, her cunt glistening wetly as she started stroking the candelabra from her opening and up her nub. She continued to slide it back and forth as she moaned so bloody prettily, her teats heaving with her breath above him, nipples tight. And then let the whole brass rod slide into her cunt instead, fucking herself with it as he lay there, panting in overwhelming need, his cock twitching in agonizing want as he moaned together with her, flaming lying there awaiting her fucking bidding. 

She looked him deep into his eyes as she slid it out again, the brass glittering in the candlelight with her wetness as she got up, bending down to kiss his lips gracefully. 

“Your turn, my love,” she whispered into his mouth, licking the unburnt side of it as she raised herself. Leaving Sandor panting for it. 

She started by stroking his cock again, spreading his seeping fluid and caressing him until he was up in such a frenzy that he didn`t know what to fucking do with himself. Before placing the still warm brass, slick with her moisture, against his arse, teasing him. 

“Say please,” she commanded lovingly. 

And what the fuck was a dog to do? Half a step away from all seven heavens, her hand having him groaning for every exhale, caressing his balls and tightening his leash, the pain from all the hits she`d given him mixing hard into it, the strange prickling, burning, _pulsing_ pleasure raging in his body, sending him so high that he nearly didn`t register it when he heard himself moan, “Please.” 

“Mistress,” she added sweetly, kissing his back-bound hands, sucking his fingers, tightening her hold on his balls. 

“Oh, bloody hell… fuck me, please… _mistress,_ before I go flaming insane here,” he gasped, too bloody high to even care anymore, soaring as she ground her cunt into the velvet underside of the candelabra, bucking her hips so it was slowly pressed against him, his arse yielding as she started stroking him again. Hard. With the leash still in her hand. Pleasure surged like nothing he`d ever felt before as the leash connected both to his collar and his balls tugged when she stroked him faster, fucking the candelabra slowly into him from behind, touching something within him that built like a flaming avalanche. 

They moaned raggedly the both of them, Sansa obviously changing so she could please herself with her hand when the brass rod was as far into his arse at it could go, continuing to buck her hips so its movement stirred the overwhelming pleasure into pure, overwhelming bliss, his wife moaning as beautifully as only she could as she suddenly let go of the leash. Sandor felt himself starting to go as the pressure around his balls lightened, holding back for all he was worth as her hand stroked him tight and fast while she fucked him hard from behind.

She heard it, felt it, knew him too well. Whimpered ‘now, my love, peak for me’ the second before he lost hold of reality – and he smashed into a release he had no opportunity of controlling, roaring as his seed pulsed out of him, pleasure flowing like a maelstrom through him, convulsing underneath his shuddering wife as they both completely lost it, her magnificent noises singing in his ears. 

The fog lifted slowly, the burning pain of his shoulders starting to shine through the hazy contentment of the aftermath. Sansa, his fucking amazing wife, lay on top of his back breathing just as heavily as he was. She moved slightly, and retrieved the candelabra, making him shiver in resonating pleasure. Raising herself up and untying his hands, she smiled to him as his shoulders cracked when he got his arms back and turned to drag her down on top of him, the leash still trailing down his chest and stomach. 

He kissed her mouth gently, lovingly, grinning ruefully at her. She chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “You`re keeping that collar,” she murmured dazedly. 

“If you fucking tell anyone…” he grumbled, and flaming felt the good side of his face heat. She slapped his chest softly. 

“And ruin all the fun?” she smiled. “You know I won`t do such a thing, Sandor. It`s our dirty little secret. And just so you know, well-bred ladies aren`t supposed to fuck infamous Hounds up their bottoms with candelabras either, so …” 

He laughed out loud, pressing her towards him, loving her so much it fucking hurt. Amazingly, deliciously so.


End file.
